#remember when

[jst-4-fun-1c]

I will remember ! 🎵🎼🎶🎵🎼🎶

[honeytempered]

i wish you couldn’t get enough of me

[lostnb22]

meeting new person: i like your shoes laces

my aphasia induced response: oh? thanks! <- no thoughts empty head only a feeling that i’ve left the stove on with no one home

three-five days later:

[han0225]

Does anyone here remember Omegle? You know, that dodgy anonymous global chatroom where we'd put [age, gender, country/state] to some random person who would then reply pretending to be someone of a similar age when they were probably actually some old geezer in a basement?

Then we'd chat with this complete stranger and their answers would be weirdly in-line with all the details of our lives we were sharing, and it would all be innocent seeming until they said or asked something a bit disturbing and we'd just kind of go along with it with our answers...

But then the stranger would flick the webcam on and we KNEW there was a 9/10 chance the stranger was going to show us body parts we REALLY shouldn't have been seeing at 14.

So we would just log out/slam the laptop shut/pull the family computer out at the plug/panic and hit alllll the buttons WITH LIGHTENING SPEED.

Then if our parents or guardians asked what the commotion was we would have to take a huge risk and LIE to them, hoping they wouldn't check our internet history and see "Omegle"...

Ah yeah, good times. Not remotely stupid, reckless, or dangerous at all 🙃🙃🙃

Seriously though, I am DESPERATELY hoping the forum was just unmoderated, because if someone was moderating that and thought it was all okay, they were a bunch of proper dodgy f*ckers.

[elizabethkiem]

Not ancient history. 9:50 : "You collect half a gigabyte, whatever that is, of information from customers every day. Thats about 350 floppy discs worth. What do you go with that data?!?" asks Bob Simon with smug incredulity.

Bless.

[rebel-heart-gypsysoul]

[deans-baby-momma]

Remember When.....

BREAKING NEWS – FUGITIVES STILL AT LARGE

These two men, who up until today were presumed dead, locked the doors and opened fire, leaving no survivors. Sam and Dean Winchester are now the subjects of a manhunt throughout the state of California.

I look up from my laptop as the reporter continues to recount the crime spree of someone from my past.

The first time I'd seen him was at a local playground; one that most families from Lawrence, Kansas often frequented.

I was in a big kid swing, my mom pushing from behind when a young blonde lady appeared through the gate with a stroller; beside the stroller was a little boy about my age with sandy blonde hair.

The little boy looked up at the woman and motions for her to bend down to his level. He whispers into her ear and she smiles as she nods her head. He grins and takes off toward the jungle gym.

“Mom? I done swinging,” I announce and on my next descent my mother grabs the chains, stopping the swing.

“Where're you going this time Sadie?”

“There,” I tell her, pointing to the jungle gym where the little boy is now climbing on the bars.

“Be careful,” mom reminds me as I take off toward the little boy

“Hi,” I say once I reach the top where he is sitting. “I'm Sadie. What's your name?”

“Dean Winches'er.”

“Are you new here? I've never seen you afore.”

“My mommy finely said I was old ‘nuff to climb so hers brung us,” he tells me.

“Who is us?”

“My brudder, Sammy. But hims just a baby.”

“Is he in da strowwer?”

“Yea, him sleepin’.”

For the next two months Dean and I would meet on top of the jungle gym every time we were there. He told me about his brother, his Mom and his ultimate hero, his Dad. He looked up to his dad like most little boys do. He swore he was going to grow up to be just like him.

He also told me about his parents arguing when they thought he was asleep, how his Dad had moved out for a while and how much he missed his old man.

I told him how my Dad didn't want to be a dad and left, that it was just me and my mom in the house along with Max, our German Shepherd.

I promised Dean to ask my Mom if he could come over one day to meet Max. She had told me she would think about it.

That night, I was woken by sirens and flashing lights passing by. The next morning, Mom broke the news to me that Dean's house had caught fire and his Mom didn't get out in time.

I cried for him, his little brother Sammy and the fact that since their house had burned, he would probably move away before meeting Max. And I would lose my first ever friend.

Now, as I sit here and stare at the screen as it pauses on video of the two men - one taller than the other - I can't help but wonder what went wrong.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

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